Maine Squeeze (49 page)

We worked in frozen silence for the rest of the afternoon. Wheatgrass Woman came in at 3:40, stared at our name tags, and said, “To tell you the truth … this wheatgrass sort of … sucks today. Are you concentrating … Courtney? Beth?”

“I'll make you another one,” I grumbled.

“I sense hostility here,” she said. “It could be the result of one of you having unsafe sex.”

That's exactly it, I thought. Beth having sex with Bryan—probably not, but even if they kissed? That was definitely unsafe.

Grant is sitting by the window. WWW is hovering over him, like he's invaded her space. He's on break. She's still waiting for that bus. Please don't ask him about safe sex, I thought. And please don't ask
me
about it while
he's
here.

I went over when he first got here and sat with him for a while. He was mad because a shipment of Science Diet came in and he was the only one there to unload the truck. He was sweaty in a clean kind of way. We talked about the student council thing. “I can't really comment,” he said. “Me being the arbitrator and all.”

“Right. Of course,” I said. “But the Duck—she's going to listen to reason, right? She won't expel us or anything.”

He wouldn't answer.

Oh crap. Imagine me working here forever. Growing old(er) with WWW. Fruit and sundaes being my life. On the Banana Wheel of Fortune.

Oh my God. It
all
happened today. Still can't believe it. I got to work; Beth and I still weren't talking; then Gerry told me this would be my last day “at this location.” The Boulder store is ready to open, and he wants me to be the “point person” there, work 3 afternoons a week plus Saturdays, etc. etc. etc. What? I told him I didn't want to, that I couldn't. How could someone who pretends to be into peace and harmony even suggest splitting me and Beth up? Maybe we're not talking now, but still, we have a history, we'll work it out eventually. And Boulder??? Where Dave lives??? No.

“Gerry, how can you make me work there? I can't! Absolutely not,” I said.

We went back and forth. I told him I didn't have time, he told me he'd sent me to that seminar so I could do this, he explained it to me back then, he's been talking to me about it for weeks, blah blah blah. “That was before I knew about Dave and what's-her-face!” I said.

Beth was out front helping customers. We were having one of those Front Range wind blasts so no one was really rushing in. Then this kids' birthday party showed up. Gerry had completely forgotten they were coming. Ten kids. They were supposed to have a frozen yogurt cake, but it hadn't been made.

Gerry panicked. He told me and Beth to make the kids whatever they wanted—no charge. The kids were cool, but the 2 moms with them were insane. They had me make, remake, triple-make their sundaes.

I lost it when one of them complained about the pecans on her Banana Splitsville not being pecans but peanuts instead—I was so flustered I'd used the wrong bin. This woman got hysterical, and accused me of trying to give her an allergic reaction, didn't I know she could die if she ate peanuts, blah blah blah.

I told the woman
she
was nuts. Then I quit. I threw my Holstein apron on the floor and marched out, nearly knocking down Wheatgrass Woman. She looked more upset than I felt.

No way am I working in Boulder and waiting on Dave and what's-her-name.
Never!

Home, home on the Front Range …

Where the deer and the antelope play

Where seldom is heard

An encouraging word

From any of my friends or ex-boyfriends or prospective

boyfriends

Or even siblings

And the skies are cloudy all day

So here I am sitting behind the counter at the new Truth or Dairy II. In Boulder. All alone.

I gave in, okay? I had to think about everything I'd be giving up. The free smoothies (like I've had one in 6 months). The endless requests for less or more ice.

Half the stuff here is still in boxes. There's a very annoying new paint smell that won't go away.

This is the opening before the Grand Opening on Saturday. This is like … a preview. A run-through so we can see what we've forgotten. Um … my guess right now would have to be: customers.

“I knew you'd come back!” Gerry cried, this giggly sound coming out of him. I'd never heard anything like it. “Oh, Courtney, I'm so proud of you. You slew the demons!”

What demons is he talking about? Dave? The fact I had to drive the Bull to Boulder and am commuting 30 miles for a $7 an hour job? The fact I hate change of any kind? Or was he talking about jealousy, hatred, dislike of other girls who date Dave …
Those
demons?

I'm supposed to be working with somebody named Trent. Hasn't shown yet. Don't think he will. I'm supposed to be the one who trains him. I wish he would show up so I could leave him out here by himself when Dave and Pretty Woman come in. She's probably like … 20 or something. Experienced. And yet still less jaded than me.

Gerry just called to see how it's going. “How come I don't hear anything in the background?” He expected blenders whirring, ice-cream scooping, nuts being chopped, I guess.

“I think you're going to need to advertise a little more,” I said.

Oh hell, the door just opened and like an entire sorority is coming in. Bye for now.

Back home, in bed. I don't know what came over me today. It was like having a high fever, the kind that gives you really weird thoughts and fears.

I got so nervous about Dave coming in, it was like I had to do something to protect myself. A shield. And I made it out of butterscotch and hot fudge. And chocolate chocolate chip ice cream.

I raced into the back room and started devouring this Turtle Shell Sundae. I
hate
butterscotch. And I hate eating around the smell of new paint.

Grant called while I was there—he'd stopped by to see me at the old store and Beth told him I was working in Boulder and gave him the number. Not that she'd use it.

“It sucks that you have to work up there,” he said. “No more Canyon Boulevard.” He said he'd miss seeing me around.

He was being so nice, I was afraid I was going to start crying. Or it could have been the new paint giving me an allergic reaction. Anyway, I told him I had to go because the hot butterscotch was boiling over.

“Okay, but before I go, I have to tell you that you got such a glowing recommendation from Gerry and Beth and some customers in the store. So that's going in my report—that everyone thinks you're very trustworthy.”

I'm so thrilled with his dumb
report
. Can't he ask how
I
am?

Things can get worse! Who knew?

Was working in Boulder again today. Gerry doesn't seem to notice I am the only one doing a horrendous commute. Beth doesn't seem to care.

So there I was. Trent not showing again. First some guy came in and asked all about the history of the store. He asked if we were kosher vegan, whether we used the same blenders for dairy and nondairy. I had to admit that we crossed the line back and forth, though I personally tried to—

Anyway, that is so not the point.

The big drama (after the woman came in and asked if we had any hot dairy drinks) (and when I said no, she asked if we had any hot smoothies) came next. Grant came in. With Dave.

My scoop slipped into the pineapple sorbet. I don't think I ever found it, I was so flustered. That has to be a health code violation.

SO ANYWAY, there they were. I guess I was glad that Dave was with Grant instead of his new girlfriend. But why was Grant in Boulder and why was he coming here and why wasn't he at work and why did he drag Dave in to see me? Was Grant the one who wanted to see me or was Dave? Was Grant only trying to be a Good Samaritan, get us to talk? Total mystery. Goes along with theory of boys needing to travel in packs, though.

But it wasn't fair because Beth wasn't there to back me up, to be
my
pack. All of a sudden I realized how much I missed her. But there wasn't time for anything like that. I had to freak out.

I took a deep breath and put a very phony smile on my face. I asked if I could help them. Politely. Really!

“Hi, Courtney,” Dave said. “Wow, your hair's getting really long.”

I didn't know if that was a compliment, but since I didn't know what else to say, I said, “Thanks.”

“Must be all the healthy eating you do,” Dave said.

Is he trying to win me back? I wondered. By talking about my healthy hair? Or is he being sarcastic because he knows I'm not always healthy? Is he obsessed with my hair?

“Must be,” I said. I turned to Grant and smiled. Even though I sort of wanted to hurl a blender at his head. What was he thinking, coming in here with Dave on a smoothie field trip? Did he have no heart?

“So how's it going?” he asked. He immediately looked down at the ice-cream tubs. Like he didn't know what chocolate chip was.

Then they ordered really easy stuff, I think they were nervous. Dave passed on the Coconut Fantasy Dream. That was like a slap in the face. He opted for the Seasonal Cranberry Splash (turkey not included).

“Couldn't get enough at Thanksgiving?” I said as I poured it into a cup. He didn't bring his refillable cup. Another slap in the face. Probably threw it out. Probably has a new refillable cup from new girlfriend.

“You know me. I love cranberry,” Dave said.

No. I thought I knew you. I was wrong
, thought the jaded bitter dramatic side of me.

The playful side of me said, “You do
not
.”

Grant got a Banana Splitsville. Then he sat there and only ate about two bites. Don't know what's wrong with him. He kept looking over at me and smiling and then looking away like he knew he'd done the wrong thing, bringing Dave here.

Dave looked incredibly uncomfortable the whole time, too. Good. I guess it's the first time I've seen him since he started seeing what's-her-name. Well, he definitely doesn't look
happier
. Paler, maybe, and like he's got a head start on those freshman 15 everyone talks about.

I helped him along by putting extra body-building power in his smoothie. After I took their money, I felt really stupid standing there in my apron, so I went into the back for some supplies I didn't really need.

After a minute or two Dave actually came back there, following me. He said I was being very rude. Like a customer who happens to be an ex-boyfriend coming into the storeroom isn't rude? Excuse me!

“Could you just talk to us for a second?” he said. “I mean, I guess it's fine if you want to be mean to me—”

“Oh, thanks.” I was so mad, I was squeezing the handful of wheatgrass so tightly that juice was almost dripping onto my shoe.

“But could you just be a little nicer to Grant?”

“Could you just
leave
?” I said.

“Courtney, come on. Why can't we be friends?” he said.

Naturally he has to use a line from a Smash Mouth song. He has no original lines!

“Oh, I'm sure we can be friends,” I said. “Just not … maybe not for six months or so. Yeah, that sounds right. Of course your time line might be a little different—”

There was a “Moo” out front, which meant the door had opened (dumb new feature Gerry added to the new store—good thing door doesn't open as much as store back home). “Excuse me. I have customers,” I said.

Dave tossed his cup into the trash. He'd hardly drunk any of his cranberry. I knew he didn't like it. Just like I knew he shouldn't have ever come in!!!

“You need to lighten up a little,” he said. “Are you going for smoothie server of the year or something?”

I went out to the front and Grant was sitting there, chewing on his spoon, the Banana Splitsville totally melted in the dish. There weren't any customers. I guess someone came in, saw Grant not eating, and left.

So I walked over to Grant. “Didn't you like it? Want me to make you something else?” I offered.

“Um … no,” he said. Then he looked up with this really pathetic look. I can't even describe it. In the meantime Dave stormed past us and went out onto the street to wait.

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked Grant.

“Sure. I just sort of wanted to … see where you worked. So, um, well. Here it is, right?” He seemed to come to his senses then. He got up and walked to the door. “See you later!” He waved and then went outside. Two guys were skateboarding down the sidewalk and nearly ran him down.

Grant came up
here
to see me? Sort of like when Dave drove down to the other T or D to see me? So he likes me. Grant, I mean. But when Dave drove down to Denver for a smoothie, it was to yell at me for being on student council.